


pieces of light

by iphigenias



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, M/M, Star Wars References, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:03:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iphigenias/pseuds/iphigenias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babe’s still holding his half-full popcorn bucket. Looking at it, clutched between his hands as he stops anxiously by his door, Gene very much wants to kiss him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pieces of light

**Author's Note:**

> !! spoilers for star wars: the force awakens !! (although if you've never seen star wars you'll still understand this fic just fine)
> 
> title is from [this quote](http://faeremus.tumblr.com/post/138438734491/we-are-mosaics-pieces-of-light-love-history) by anita krizzan. as usual, this work is based upon the hbo portrayals of easy company and no disrespect is intended to the real men.

_We are mosaics. Pieces of light, love, history, stars. Glued together with magic and music and words._

_—_ Anita Krizzan

 

*

 

Gene’s tired, frustrated and, frankly, he just wants to go home. Which he should be able to do, since every movie showing tonight has long since rolled its credits and the candy bar’s been cleaned up, ready for the new day.

Except.

There’s a guy. ( _There’s always a guy,_ Renee’s voice says smugly in his head, which Gene ignores.) He’s sitting in the first row of the upstairs seating in cinema 3, clutching his bucket of half-eaten popcorn and crying into his jacket sleeve. But not just normal, quiet movie-crying. They’re big, gusty sobs, the kind that make your chest heave in and out. It’s a pretty ugly sight to behold, if Gene’s being honest. The guy’s nose is as red as his hair and his eyes are small and watery and Gene really shouldn’t find him attractive—except he can’t help it, because cinema 3 has been showing _Star Wars_ all day and it’s a man after Gene’s own heart who cries over Han Solo’s death. (Gene had done it himself, after all, when he watched the midnight premiere from the back of the cinema even though he was supposed to be on duty.)

But despite the guy’s good taste in movies, and his relative attractiveness minus the ugly sobbing, it’s nearing midnight and Gene really needs to get home so he can catch at least a couple hours of sleep before getting up for his early morning lecture. Not only that, but he’s been wearing his binder for almost twenty hours and he’s far enough through pre-med to know the burning in his chest isn’t a good feeling.

He should really just tell the guy to fuck off. Maybe not in so many words, but. He knows that’s what Renee would tell him to do if she were here, and as it is, he’s probably going to wake her up when he gets home late to their apartment and get an earful anyway—so he might as well bite the bullet.

Gene sighs and walks along the aisle towards the guy. “’Scuse me,” he says, and the guy jumps, nearly knocking the popcorn out of the container. Gene possibly would’ve killed him if it fell on the floor. “We’re closin’ up now. You gotta go.”

“Oh, yeah, right, I’m sorry,” the guy babbles, his words climbing over the top of one another and exiting his mouth so quickly Gene barely catches what he says. “I just got caught up in the movie and I didn’t realise the time and—oh, geez, I’m sorry.”

Gene shrugs. “’S’okay,” he says, even though it’s not, but up close and minus the wracking sobs, the guy is even cuter than he thought. “You got a cab or somethin’ waitin’ for you?”

“Nah,” the guy sniffles, following Gene out the theatre and watching him lock the doors. “I’m walking, it ain’t too far.” He gives Gene a small smile and wave before turning and heading across the foyer for the main doors. Gene watches him walk away for a few seconds before sighing and rubbing his eyes. He’ll probably regret this tomorrow.

“D’you want a lift?” he calls out, flicking off the lights and joining the guy by the doors. “’S’not safe walkin’ alone at this time o’ night.”

“Really, I’m fine, I wouldn’t wanna impose—”

“You ain’t imposin’,” Gene says, levelling him with what Renee calls his _stern doctor look._ “You said it yourself, anyway. It ain’t far.”

The guy hesitates for another moment, but Gene can tell he’s going to say yes. “C’mon. I drive you home, you promise not to stay this late here again. Sound fair?” Gene gets a smile in response, and it’s dazzling. He swallows and looks away. “Car’s this way.”

By the time the guy is firmly ensconced in Gene’s passenger seat, popcorn secure between his legs, he’s informed Gene that his name is Babe, he’s a freshman at the college Gene is at, and he’s lived in South Philly all his life until about six months ago. Gene climbs in behind the wheel and turns on the ignition. “Babe? Really?”

“Well,” Babe says, blushing faintly in the dim light of the streetlamp, “it’s a nickname. My ma gave it to me, ‘cos I’m the youngest of seven, and it stuck.” Gene gives him another look. “My real name’s Edward, but only the nuns call me that.”

“Alright, Edward,” Gene says easily, hiding a smile in the collar of his sweater at Babe’s protests. “Let’s get you home.”

On the drive, Babe manages to wheedle out from Gene his full name (“Edward and Eugene, we sound like a couple of gramps at the nursing home.”), where he’s from (“I ain’t ever been to Louisiana, but my best friend Bill’s got pictures from when he went to the Mardi Gras there. Is it really that insane every year?”), and what he’s majoring in (“What’s a pre-med student doin’ working in a place like that?”). Gene tries to keep his answers as short as possible in between asking for directions, but Babe somehow has this power to convince Gene to reveal more of himself than he’s used to, more than he’s ever told anyone else bar Renee. And if Gene thought Babe was nice-looking back at the cinema—well, the twenty-minute car ride amplifies this fact one hundred times over. Gene feels himself blushing as he pulls into the parking lot of Babe’s apartment complex (“I was gonna live on campus but Bill already had a place and, well, there’re three takeouts in this one block so it’s not like it was a hard decision to make.”), and then to his horror, hears himself asking Babe if he wants Gene to walk him to the door.

With the harsh glare of the streetlight through the front windshield, Gene watches as Babe blushes to the roots of his hair. Gene swallows and looks away. This was stupid. He’s known the guy all of twenty minutes and suddenly he’s acting like this is a date? Gene’s never even been on a proper date his whole life, always too scared the asexual-and-trans combination would scare people off no matter what Renee said. He swallows heavily and is about to rescind his offer when Babe clears his throat, all soft and hesitant, and says in a quiet voice that, “Yeah, Gene, I’d like that.”

So he walks Babe to his door. It’s up a couple flights of stairs, during which the both of them are silent, cautious, almost too nervous to test the waters between them. Babe’s still holding his half-full popcorn bucket. Looking at it, clutched between his hands as he stops anxiously by his door, Gene very much wants to kiss him. The desire must be written all over his face because Babe smiles, a big, real, blinding smile and asks if Gene wants to come inside.

“I can’t,” Gene says after a moment, his stomach swooping down towards his feet. “I’m—I’m not—I don’t do sex on the first date. On any date, actually.” He closes his eyes, ready for the sting of rejection when Babe realises exactly what he means, when a feels a cool and slightly clammy hand cup his cheek, and he opens his eyes.

“Me neither,” Babe says simply, looking up at Gene, and smiles. “Did you want to come in? It’s just—this popcorn isn’t going to eat itself, and I need someone to talk to about that movie. Sound fair?” he asks, an echo of Gene’s earlier words when he offered Babe a lift, and somehow this feels more than what it is—two almost-strangers in a doorway in the middle of the night. If Gene reached out, he thinks maybe he could hold this moment in his hands and keep it forever.

“Yeah, Edward. I’d like that,” he says softly, early morning lecture far from his mind, and it’s worth it for the way Babe smiles at him from the inside out as he unlocks the door and lets Gene in.

**Author's Note:**

> why make only gene ace when you can make babe ace as well ?? this fic is my answer to that burning question


End file.
